by Michele Hauf
Kai strode off and around the side of the house. Beck heard the truck engine fire up and drive off.
Spitting blood onto the snow, Beck caught his head in his hands. He did want to fix this. And Daisy deserved better. But not until he’d had his showdown with the hunter.
He needed resolution. One way or another.
* * *
Malakai and Rissa Saint-Pierre had raised Daisy to be a strong, independent woman who did not require a man to complete her or make her happy. Happiness came from within. If a person couldn’t be happy in and of themselves, then how could they ever be happy with another person in their lives?
As well, her parents had taught her that men respected women and never hurt them.
Daisy pushed back her welding mask to rest at the top of her head. She was no longer in the mood for creation. Tugging off her leather gloves, she dropped them on the work bench then turned and leaned against it, her eyes unfocused on the wolf she was crafting from bicycle chains.
Beck had not hurt her last night. Physically, anyway. She even tried to convince herself that he had not hurt her emotionally when he’d literally pushed her away and told her to leave him alone.
She knew he had been trying to protect her from that ghostly werewolf within him that threatened to take over and destroy whatever was in its path.
Like her?
He worried about hurting her. And that troubled her. She didn’t want him to have that worry, and she didn’t want to fear him in any way.
Was he struggling with these issues as much as she was? Certainly he must be. He didn’t need to worry about her while he was still grieving his father.
Maybe they’d gotten involved too quickly. Perhaps her father was right in an odd, roundabout way, that Beck wasn’t the wolf for her.
She shook her head and set the mask aside. She couldn’t deny her heart. Because this was the first man she’d actually worried over so much. That had to mean something. Like maybe he was worth the worry.
“He is,” she said, shrugging down her suede work overalls.
Beneath, she wore black leggings and a long gray T-shirt. It was chilly in her place today so she wandered toward the bedroom and snagged a soft blue sweater to pull on over the T-shirt, then stepped into the bathroom to splash water on her face. It got sweaty wearing that welding mask.
Someone knocked on the door, and her heartbeats quickened. She knew who it was. She could scent him. But mingled with Beck’s woodsy aroma was an out-of-place floral odor. Perfume?
Rushing to open the door, Daisy found a huge bouquet of red roses standing in the opening.
“Beck?”
“I’m back here. Somewhere.”
The roses moved forward, and she guided them in toward the kitchen counter. The long-stem roses were already in a vase that Beck set on the counter. There must be three or four dozen, she guessed.
“They’re so pretty.”
“Better than blue?” He heaved out a sigh and splayed his hands. “I’m sorry about last night, Daisy. I shouldn’t have been so quick with you. I—”
She touched the cut above his eye that was almost healed. She hadn’t seen it there yesterday.
“Had a little scuffle,” he offered in explanation. “Can you forgive me? I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I understand. It was the ghost wolf, wasn’t it?”
He nodded, shoved his hands in his front pockets and looked aside. Unsure about touching her? Or not wanting to?
Daisy couldn’t stand there and let him get by without a kiss. She stepped before him, and with another stroke over the cut, she kissed him. It was an “everything is good between us” kiss. A promise that they were doing the best they could and that whatever roadblocks they encountered, she was in it for the bumpy ride.
His breaths softened and mingled within hers, and she sensed his heartbeat slow. Finally he surrendered to the embrace. Beck’s hands glided up her back, pulling her in to meld her body against his. He was so warm despite having come from outside, where the below-zero temps had reduced the city to an icebox.
“From now on, whenever you tell me to leave, I will without question,” she said. “I trust you know yourself and the beast within you.”
“I hate having to deal with this beast. But the worst is that you have to deal with it.”
“Then maybe it’s time you did something about it?” Her conversation with Bella Severo popped into her brain. “Find the faery you made the bargain with and reverse it?”
He smirked. “Your father said the same thing.”
He turned toward the couch, but she gripped his coat sleeve. “My father? What the heck?”
Beck shrugged off his coat and tossed it over the couch arm, then tugged her onto the couch with him. “Your dad stopped by my place not long after you left last night.”
“But—why? And you were...”
“Not in the best mood or form. After you left I went out back to beat on the boxing bag. Tends to tame the ghost wolf when I work up a good sweat.”
Daisy couldn’t figure out why her father would go to Beck’s house. Though he had called her this morning. Said he’d looked for her last night. She’d lied and said she was out shopping. Right. Because she loved to shop. Not.
“Did he know I had been there?”
“Of course. He could smell you.”
“So he went to your place looking for me?”
“I guess so. We fought. Then we had a weird talk.”
“You fought?” She couldn’t believe this. Sitting up on her knees, facing him, her eyes veered to the cut near his eyebrow. “Beck, are you serious? You and my dad were throwing punches?”
“He came up behind me when I was punching the bag. I turned and threw a defensive punch before I knew who it was. Then he challenged me, and I was already worked up and itching to punch something, so...we shoved each other around a bit.”
“A bit? You have a cut on your eyebrow that still hasn’t healed. My dad is not someone you should mess with. And did you forget the fact that he’s my dad?”
“Daisy, it’s cool. We...had a moment. It’s all good between us now. Mostly.”
“What?” Unsure what to do—hug him or nurse him—Daisy couldn’t bring herself to touch him. “Beck, you are blowing my mind with this. I so don’t understand.”
He bowed his head to her shoulder and nudged his nose up against her chin. The touch was so tender, so needy, she tilted her head beside his.
“Your dad knows how I feel about you now,” he said, “and I know you’re the most important thing in the world to him. His whole family is. He understands I would never do anything to harm them. I told him I was the ghost wolf.”
“So you two beat each other up, then you had sharing time? I don’t even know what to say to that. I can’t believe Dad didn’t mention anything when he called this morning.”
“We came to a sort of gentleman’s agreement to tolerate one another. At least, that’s what I took away from it. Your dad is a good man. I respect him, Daisy.”
“I know you do. I just didn’t think I’d ever hear about the two of you hugging.”
“I didn’t say we hugged. Did I say that?”
“No, but your defensiveness makes me think that maybe you did.” She smiled and kissed him quickly.
Whatever had gone on between the two, she was pleased Beck was in one piece. And only slightly wounded. Her father had certainly restrained himself.
“I was thinking of going out for a run this afternoon,” she offered, thinking a change of subject was due. “It’s so cold today. No one is out and about. But my wolf loves running over the crisp, iced snow.”
“I can get behind that. And then we’ll come back and warm up afterward.”
“With hot chocolate,” she agreed.
He kissed her cheek. “And sex.”
“That’s the best motivation I’ve heard for making the run short.”
He stood and pulled her up into his embrace. “We could
skip the run. Stay inside and make love all day.”
That sounded even better. But if she got him out of the house on a run, there was a good chance they could go looking for the faery.
“To be honest, I could really use a run,” she said. “It’ll make coming in to warm up all the more fun. Yes?”
He kissed her in answer.
Chapter 24
“Mmm, my gorgeous werewolf.”
A pale faery fluttered above the snow, her body draped with sheer fabric. Dozens of winged insects resembling white moths lazily waved their wings from within her finely braided yet flowing hair.
After Daisy and Beck had gone for a run in wolf form, they’d shifted back near a maple tree where they’d left their clothes, dressed, and then Daisy had suggested Beck try to call out the faery. A few kisses, a little snuggling and a pouty big-eyed plead had done the trick.
Beck hadn’t spoken, but instead had closed his eyes and summoned the faery he’d called to after his father’s death. And she had appeared quickly, in a burst of frost and sultry giggles. And white moths.
“Why have you come back to me, Beckett Severo?” the white faery cooed. “Are you not pleased with the gift I bestowed upon you for nothing more than the promise of a favor returned?”
Daisy lingered behind Beck, fascinated to look upon the gorgeous faery. Her wings had never looked so stunning. It was as if the white faery’s wings were liquid and run through with rainbows flowing through her veins as the wings shifted slowly through the air. And even though the thermometer hadn’t topped the freezing point, she looked a porcelain princess, alive with life.
“I am thankful for the gift you gave me,” Beck said. “The ghost wolf has been successful in pressing back the hunters. The gray wolves in the area feel a safety that they haven’t known since before the hunting ban was lifted.”
“And were you able to achieve your foremost goal?” the faery asked. She hadn’t regarded Daisy yet. Her violet eyes took in Beck as if she admired his strength and courage. And perhaps more than that.
“I know where the hunter who killed my father lives.”
“Though your goal was not stated, I could read it in your soul, Beckett Severo. The ghost wolf must end the hunter’s life,” the faery stated.
“No,” Daisy blurted out.
The moths about the faery’s hair suddenly swirled into an angry tornado and aimed toward Daisy. She cringed behind Beck’s broad shoulder.
With a sweep of a hand over her head, the faery calmed the raging insects that must be a part of her very being. “Do not listen to the half-breed whose curse will not allow her to decide whether she is wolf or faery,” she said on an obvious sneer. “My brave warrior werewolf has not yet completed his task. Therefore I cannot request a return boon until you have.”
She thought Daisy couldn’t decide whether to be wolf or faery. What curse? That didn’t make sense. Her father had been the one born with a faery curse upon his head.
“What do you mean by that?” Daisy asked. “I’m sorry, Beck, but I have to know if she senses something about me.”
“Yes, I’d like to know, too.” He clasped her hand and squeezed reassuringly. “Daisy is having, er, troubles with shifting.”
“She was supposed to be born either wolf or faery. She must choose,” the faery said curtly. “As simple as that.”
“How do you know that?” Daisy asked. “I have brothers who are half-breeds. I’ve always thought—”
“As the firstborn child of Malakai Saint-Pierre, you shoulder remnants of the curse cast upon him by Ooghna. Your father was not to fall in love with a faery, or he would ransom his heart.”
“But the curse was broken when my father killed Ooghna.”
The faery snarled at Daisy, revealing pointed teeth. Perhaps she had known the warrior Ooghna, who had once been the Unseelie king’s champion.
“Malakai Saint-Pierre murdered the warrior Ooghna. You are meant to be only wolf or only faery, but the curse lingers. Until you make a choice, you will ever struggle between the two.”
“So it’s as easy as that?” Beck asked. “She simply decides whether she wants to be one or the other?”
The faery nodded. “I thought you called me to discuss you? I do not owe this one any more than what I have revealed.”
“I thank you,” Daisy rushed out, knowing one should always appease the sidhe. “You’ve been a tremendous help. And you’re right. We called you because Beck is suffering.”
“I wouldn’t say suffering. As I’ve said, I appreciate the gift. The ghost wolf is becoming difficult to control,” Beck said. “I want to return the power to you, if I may. I don’t want the beast to harm innocents.”
“Is that so?” The faery’s wings flitted back and forth before Beck and Daisy as she considered the wolf’s request. “I see no malice in harming humans who claim murder as their goal.”
“I do,” Beck said. “As a creature of this realm, I cannot justify harming innocents.”
“The hunter was not innocent.”
“The humans are acting on morals that have been bred into them. Yes, it is a fear-based reaction to want to murder a wolf, but I don’t think the ghost wolf can ever change that. And so...I’ve had a change of heart.”
Drawing up her chin, the faery looked down her nose at the werewolf. “What would you give me in return for such a boon?”
“I, uh...”
Daisy placed her other hand over her and Beck’s clasped hands. The faery noted their handhold, and again the moths showed their dismay. Daisy dropped his hand. Best tread carefully around this one.
“What would you ask of me?” Beck said.
“I’ll take something that is important to you. Your wolf.”
“No,” Beck answered hastily. “I— No. You mean I would become merely human? Is that even possible?”
“Everything is possible.”
“I suppose it is in Faery. But...my wolf. It’s what I am. Is there something else? Anything?”
The faery sighed heavily and the moths swirled toward Beck, circling his head testily. Daisy could smell their spring scent, like raindrops on new moss. Only when one of the creatures dashed before her face, cutting her skin with a wing, did she step back and behind Beck again.
“Mind your place,” the faery admonished Daisy. And to Beck she said, “The only other option is to take your firstborn.”
“My— But I’m not even married.”
“You will marry her,” the faery said with bored assertion. “And you will have children. Most likely half-breeds, if she chooses her sidhe nature. Always a boon in Faery, mind you. Those are the two options I will give you to, in turn, remove the power of the ghost wolf from your frustratingly moral soul.”
Beck glanced down to Daisy. He looked into her for the answer. But what did she know? And what right had she to tell him what was worthy of a trade? They were to be married? If so, then she would never hand over her firstborn. But the faery couldn’t possibly predict their future when their relationship was yet so new.
“I’ve always said making the wrong decision is more fun.” He shook his head and regarded the faery. “But no. I’d never sacrifice my child.”
“Then your wolf it is,” the faery said with delight.
“No! I refuse to sacrifice what I am. I just...can’t. I guess that means I’ll have to deal with the ghost wolf on my own.”
“Do not ever seek me again, werewolf,” the faery said. “When you have finished what the ghost wolf desires, then I shall return for my favor.”
Sweeping her wings forward once, the faery dispersed into thousands of white moths and soared away above the naked treetops.
“I’m sorry.” Beck pulled Daisy against him.
“I’ll be fine. We’re going to be fine.”
A kiss to her nose was warm in the icy air and made her smile. “I’ll just have to live with this curse.”
“No, you don’t. Didn’t you hear what she said? She can’t ask for a retu
rn favor until you’ve completed your task. So don’t ever kill the hunter, Beck. It’s as easy as choosing to forgive.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but only shook his head.
“Yes, forgive,” she repeated.
“It’s not as easy as you make it sound, Daisy. If I don’t kill the hunter, the ghost wolf will kill me.”
Sliding an arm around her waist, he walked her back to the truck parked on the gravel road outside the forest.
Once inside, the engine running and the seat warmers cranked to high, Beck leaned over and kissed Daisy. “What are you going to choose?”
“What do you mean— Oh. You think she was right?”
“I have to believe she has some means to foretell things about us. And it makes sense. If your dad was cursed, you could carry remnants of that curse within you.”
Daisy nodded. “I don’t know. It’s a weird thing to consider. One or the other? I’m wolf and faery. There are parts of my parents in me that I wouldn’t want to sacrifice over the other.”
“You did tell me you favor your wolf.”
“I always have. But to think about giving up any part of me?” Daisy sighed.
“Maybe you should talk to your mother about it? She might be able to confirm what this one said. At the very least, you need to tell her about you carrying the remnants of the curse.”
Weird how their lives had been so entwined with their parents’. Beck’s mother coming to her to help her son. Her father going to Beck and possibly forming some kind of truce. And Beck suggesting she seek her mother’s help.
Family truly was the foundation of everything that made life worth living.
“I’m glad you said you wouldn’t give up your firstborn,” she said as Beck turned onto the road and flicked on the headlights. The twin lights beamed through falling snow.
“How could I?”
“My grandparents both agreed to such a bargain.”
“Your father told me.”
“People do what they must when they are desperate.”
“Then I guess I’m not desperate.”
“What about giving up your wolf? That sounds worse.”